


Racy

by cadkitten



Category: Dir en grey
Genre: Dirty Dancing, Drabble, Marijuana, Other, Street Racing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 18:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9136234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: Die closed his eyes and let the world wash over him: the scent of motor oil, the hints of new rubber and gasoline. Beneath it, the waft of marijuana smoke, of cigars and cigarettes, the sticky-sweet of vapes and the electrifying buzz of alcohol.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For #6 Road - A long-lost muse from an RP I did for Tokyo Drift back in the day.  
> Song[s]: "I Can't Stop" by Flux Pavillion

Die closed his eyes and let the world wash over him: the scent of motor oil, the hints of new rubber and gasoline. Beneath it, the waft of marijuana smoke, of cigars and cigarettes, the sticky-sweet of vapes and the electrifying buzz of alcohol. 

Pushing open the door to his brand new ride, he slid one leg out, heard the rousing cheer come up from the crowd that _he_ had arrived. Bass pumped through the air, the drop of the twenty or so cars all playing their own music, the sounds mingling into something that gave a heady sort of feeling when combined. Turning in his seat, he placed his other boot-clad foot on the ground, easing himself from the car, his hand gliding over the top of the door, over waxed metal and pristine rubber. 

His blonde curls fell over his shoulders, teasing at the red sheen of the pvc of his crop-top. Reaching down, Die tugged the white thigh-high boots all the way into place, enjoying the feeling of them teasing at the black fishnets beneath. His shorts barely managed to find their way down to cover his ass, leaving the barest peek of it if he moved in just the right way, the jet black denim frayed along the edges. Sliding his phone into his pocket, Die stepped around his car, fingertips never leaving the metal surface as he placed one foot in front of the other, swaying his hips in _all_ the right ways as he made his way to the hood. 

Leaning back onto the hood, he spread his legs, tossed his hair over his shoulder, and watched as bets started to change hands, people re-arranging everything now that he was here. He didn't bother to hide the cocky look that slid across his features, the way his lips quirked and his eyes shone with confidence. Someone rearranged the lights to spotlight one on him and his car and he heard the rallying cry right before someone cranked his song, turned it up above all the others and people began to cheer. 

He wasn't stupid, he knew a lot of why they loved him, of why they all would bet bank on him was because of the _show_ he put on. He pushed up off the hood, taking a few steps forward and lowering his false lashes, slowly rolling his neck, hands pushing down over his hips to splay out over his pelvis, starting a slow grind as the lyrics kicked in. 

A few of the girls stepped in after a few lines, each of them taking their turns with him, dirty dancing, grinding against him until the next stepped up and they moved away. Die kept his hands to himself or in the air just above the person dancing with him, complimenting whatever they were doing with his own moves. His eyes flicked up over the crowd, searching, finding the men who were looking at him in the _right_ way, filing them away for later. He pointed to one once the girls were all done with him, crooking his finger and having the guy step forward. Another round of cheers came up from the crowd as he laid one hand on the guy's shoulder and dropped down in front of him, looking up at him, that same cocky look on his face as he made a show of giving him what could have very well rivaled a strip show if only he'd been taking off his clothing while doing it. 

His hands slid over the guy's toned abdomen, pushed up under his shirt and ghosted over smooth _tattooed_ flesh. Pushing back up to his feet, he turned and fell back into the guy's arms, actually grinding against him, working him until he felt the strain of the guy's erection pressing against his ass, felt the nudging flare of his own arousal blossoming.

The song ended and Die stepped away, stalking his way back to his car, pushing himself up on the hood and stretching out across it, shirt riding up even further, one leg pulled up to help keep him on the hood. Some things never changed and this scene was definitely one of those things.


End file.
